


No One Else To Blame

by aPseudonym



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety Issues, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Hurt/No Comfort, PTSD, tony needs help man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:23:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aPseudonym/pseuds/aPseudonym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't blank rage. </p><p>It's not how the books and movies always show it, with a red cloudy haze swirling in your vision and being unaware of what you're doing. </p><p>Tony is perfectly aware of what he's doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cacw Spoilers (if you haven't seen it, you are way behind the times and I highly recommend it)

It isn't blank rage. 

It's not how the books and movies always show it, with a red cloudy haze swirling in your vision and being unaware of what you're doing. 

Tony is perfectly aware of what he's doing. 

His anger isn't hot. It doesn't burn a hole through him, smolder in his chest or set fire to his heart, like everyone says. It might've, given time. But it's not. 

It's cold. It cold and it’s numbing, sinking into his fucking bones. He knows what he's doing, every calculated move, even though the thoughts don't stop, a background static of _you killed them you killed them they weren't yours to take I hate you I'm sorry._

In that second, he hates the Winter Solider, every frozen fiber of his body screams out hate. And in a detached way, he hates Steve, for collaborating with this, for not being there when he finally needs help. 

Its odd, fighting Steve, and he hates that too, the way Steve crunches under the metal, the way he and the Winter Solider are flawless together, Tony reduced to an object they have to defeat. 

It escalates faster than Tony can process, and he finds himself caught under a vicious attack from both of them.  
He hadn't known Steve could fight so ruthlessly. 

It _hurts,_ and not just the physical wounds (though he was pretty sure he'd busted a rib or two) it was the fact Steve had just given up caring so easily, and Tony pushes down the thought that Steve had probably given up long ago. 

Tony thinks of his parents, and fire fills his veins. It banishes the cold, and Tony _loves_ it, the feel of it flooding though him instead of the ice. Gives up every thought to the heat. 

He finally gets the upper hand, and rips out the arm that crushed his mother's lungs, shot out Howard's brains. Tony stalks forward, fully intending to beat the Winter Solider over the head with his own metal arm, when Steve is back up _(undefeatable)_ and he has to drop the arm to contend with him. 

Everything is still hazy, a combination _fire ice_ that makes him dizzy. His control slips, everything slips, until he's finally laying broken on the filthy floor, Steve unrecognizable above him. 

Steve raises his shield above his head, and Tony jerks, throws up his arms, adrenaline and fear shaking through him, because he is going to _kill him oh god I'm sorry I'm sorry,_

And the shield slams into him, biting through the arc reactor, shattering it to pieces. 

Tony is left gasping and shaking, the shock and heavy armor paralyzing him. Steve's face blurs above him, and he gets off Tony with a groan. 

He walks toward Bucky without a backwards glance, pulls him up and slings Bucky's good arm around him. 

Tony still can't move. 

They start to limp towards the exit, and Tony panics, shouts something around the ringing in his ears, about how Howard had _made _that shield, how Steve didn't fucking _deserve_ it. __

_It's hypocrisy,_ Tony thinks savagely, because Howard had given him life, and Tony’d proven early on he'd done nothing do deserve that. 

Steve turns back and looks at him, and Tony knows he looks pathetic, blood and shock painted across his face, the pieces of the arc reactor scattered everywhere. 

He thinks maybe he sees pity in Steve's eyes, and it burns, feels something break inside. 

The shield clangs on the dirty ground, ringing softly. 

Tony fights the bile and tears that rise up as they both walk away, that they're able to walk away, wants to scream, _I trusted you I hate you I'm so sorry,_ but everything feels raw and empty and he jacks himself up on one hand, spits blood on the filthy ground. 

The last broken pieces of the arc reactor fall to the floor, and Tony almost laughs, hysterical breaths bubbling in his chest. He stares at the shards of glass, the shield mocking him from the corner. Tony huffs out a crazed laugh, at the irony that Cap had just broken his heart, literally and metaphorically.

The suit creaks in the cold, going stiff. Tony is instantly transported back the last time this had happened, when the suit froze in the frozen wilderness that was Tennessee. He fumbles for the manual release outside, but his fingers are weighted with iron and cold and shock. 

The breath catches in his throat, and Tony tries not to sob as the wind whips around his face. His fingers finally hook the tiny lever, and he twists and pulls, and the armor collapses into pieces around him. 

The wind buffets him now, instantly colder and Tony immediately calculates an 72% chance of frostbite if he doesn't find shelter. He drags the armor back to the wall Bucky had pushed him over. _(Or had Steve pulled him over?)_

He doesn't remember. 

Tony huddles there, knows the best thing is to wait and keep warm, but he's not actually sure the team will find him. Sure, there's a tracker in the suit, but he had royally fucked up this time. His own words echo back to him, the five stupid words he'd been so sure about. _I'm here as a friend._ Something that feels like misery lodges in his throat, and Tony tries to swallow around it. 

_He could have prevented all of this._

The wall is cold and unforgiving, and Tony presses his palms to his face, fractured arm burning. He'd come as a friend, he really had, and then because he couldn't keep his emotions together, he'd fucked everything up. _(Again.)_  
The Avengers, his friendship with Steve, _everything._

A small part of him is glad he did it, glad he'd finally stood up for Howard, the sonofabitch. He thinks distantly of his parents, his mom, the only person he'd ever had that even remotely resembled a loving figure to him.

Everything hurts, the pain in his chest building with every breath. Tony's 87% sure a rib had been fractured, possibly broken, _(92% sure, fuck)_ when Steve had brought the shield down. 

He doesn't care. He deserved it. Something wet and hot slides down Tony's face, dripping off and freezing instantly on the flight suit. 

It takes a long time for the team to find him, but he doesn't care, to dazed with shock and pain, regret chipping away inside. They bundle him into a helicraft, draping a truly hideous orange blanket around him. ( _“For the shock,”_ they whisper.) It scratches against Tony, but the warmth doesn't sink in. He doesn't want it to. 

Everything feels strange.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony knows it's odd. He tells himself he should feel something, rage or betrayal or, hell, even happiness, but he can't find anything. He searches around, but all he comes up with is a hard chunk of emptiness that isn't unfamiliar.

They land at the hospital, and immediately, Tony fights his way to Rhodey’s room. It smells faintly of bleach and alcohol, and it makes Tony's skin tingle. Faceless doctors and nurses crowd in after him, requesting _(demanding)_ they attend to him, strap him to a bed and set his arm and deal with his ribs and possible frostbite. Tony flat out refuses, and it isn't until Director Fury strides in that the doctors get their way. 

The hospital blankets aren't nearly warm enough, cold seeping up from the white tiles lining the floor _(thirty-eight of them in his room)_ and it doesn't take long before Tony's shivering, the morphine crawling through his veins. He gets up anyway, draping the thin blanket around himself because the hospital gowns are shamelessly open the back. 

The IV line plugged into him twitches, and Tony considers yanking it out. But the drugs feel good and they make him fuzzy on the details with his fight with Cap, so he keeps it in. 

The walk to Rhodey’s is surprising easy, and Tony shuffles into a room almost identical to the one he'd left. He trails the IV line behind him, pushes it next to the waiting chair by the bed. Rhodey doesn't stir, doesn't move or twitch or _blink,_ and Tony forces himself to remember the square breathing exercise Natasha had shown him and focuses on the slight rise and fall of Rhodey’s chest. 

The waiting chair is uncomfortable and slightly tacky with some something that Tony tries not think about. He sort of hopes it's jello, though he has his doubts.

He tugs the ugly chair closer to Rhodey’s bed, wincing when it screeches against the tiles. The bandages around his chest make it tough to curl up on the chair, but he manages it, tucking his blanket securely around his feet. 

The morphine slips through him and the minutes click by. 

“You know, you’d think for a team of superhero's they'd be able to afford a classier hospital.” 

The white blankets that cover Rhodey don't answer. 

~•~•~•~

When Rhodey finally wakes up, thirty-seven hours later, _(thirty-seven hours, fifteen minutes, twenty-two seconds later)_ he doesn't comment when Tony chokes and launches himself into the hospital bed. It's how Natasha and Coulson find them, squished together with the thin blankets tangled and the jello stained chair abandoned. 

Natasha laughs, an honest to god grin that's toothy and loud and happy. She half turns her head, and some of the happiness falls flat when Clint isn't standing beside her to laugh. 

Tony invites her up, though mainly just to bring back her laugh. She does, her laugh there but not as steady, as she balances precariously on the edge of the bed. 

Coulson smiles at them, not a full grin, but that man never grins (Tony swears he’s half robot) and shakes his head at them fondly. 

They both get called away after a while, Natasha looking annoyed at having to meet with the legal team supervising the destruction of the parking lot where they'd battled (Personally, Tony can't see what the big deal is, it was an abandoned lot) and it's only when they leave that Rhodey leans forward conspiratorially and whispers, a little mumbled from the drugs, “Tones? Can't feel m’ legs.” 

Tony's heart stops. 

He likes using that phrase because it's literally happened to him a couple times, though it’s not an experience he wants to repeat. He doesn't get much choice. 

“What?”

Rhodey shakes his head a little, like he's trying to get water out of his ear. “Told ya. Can't feel my legs.” 

The words are still a little slurred, and Tony seriously hopes it's just the drugs messing with him. He presses the button the side of the chair immediately, and a few minutes later a nurse walks in. 

Turns out Rhodey’s back was severely damaged him the crash, but the nurse reassures him that with time, there is a very high chance of Rhodey recovering full use of his legs. Rhodey nods along, but Tony’s frozen to the bed, because Rhodey’s _paralyzed_ from the waist down, this really can’t be happening, the Iron Patriot would never fail like that-- _oh._ The suit. He’d made that suit. Rhodey wouldn’t-- it would never have happened if-- 

A clicking sound interrupts his wild thoughts, and Rhodey’s snapping his fingers in front of Tony's face. “Tony? What’s wrong?” 

What’s wrong? What’s _wrong?_ Tony barely manages to keep his face in check. “Nothing. Just tired, zoned out for a minute.” He forces out a half smile, and Rhodey frowns but doesn’t comment. The nurse tells him he’s released, and can leave when he wants, but Tony doesn’t leave Rhodey’s side until the sun's setting and they come back in to tell him visiting hours are over. 

He thinks they’re joking for a minute, because _hello,_ he’s Tony Stark, but they kick him out for the night, no matter how much Tony tries to pay them off or argue that he _is_ family. The nurses are unfortunately wily, and Tony finds himself sitting on the concrete bench outside. It’s too far to walk to the Avenger-- his Tower, and he just sits exhausted on the bench until a car rumbles up, and Coulson rolls down the window. He raises an eyebrow and tells Tony he doesn’t want him driving in his _condition,_ whatever that means. Tony’s too tired to argue. He slides into the car, and they set off for the Tower. 

He disappears into his lab practically the second they arrive. Coulson gives Tony a concerned look as he hops from the car, but he ignores it and pushes into his lab, immediately initiating lock down. FRIDAY complies instantly, darkening the windows and locking the door behind him. 

Tony knows it's odd. He tells himself he should feel something, rage or betrayal or, hell, even happiness, but he can't find anything. He searches around, but all he comes up with is a hard chunk of emptiness that isn't unfamiliar. Tony hates the feeling, so he shoves it aside and pours everything he has into Rhodey’s leg braces. 

He slices his arm open from wrist to elbow on a piece of metal sticking from the braces and burns his palms twice on the welding torch. Tony steadfastly ignores the burns, and wraps a grease-stained handkerchief around his bleeding arm. 

The workshop doesn't darken, doesn't quiet or change. Tony's grateful for that, the fact that some things stay the same. Vaguely, he waits for JARVIS to give him the update on his sleep schedule, to nag him into eating. JARVIS stays strangely silent, and it takes Tony a while to remember that he's gone, and then he misses him so fiercely it physically hurts. 

Everyone seems to leave him, eventually. 

Tony doesn't blame them. The metal whirrs as he finishes the leg braces, propping them both up on the worktable. A clock beeps quietly to his right, and the digital display reads _2:48._ The coffee machine automatically starts, coffee trickling into the pot, but Tony barely notices. The glass doors slide open for him as he jogs out of the lab and they shut soundlessly. Tony had programmed them to be silent, but now he kind of regrets it. Everything is quiet upstairs. Tony stands in the middle of his living room, the entire house empty and still. 

New York is the city that never sleeps, but he’d soundproofed his Tower, so the never ending stream of cars and people don’t bother him. He’s seconds away from calling Pepper, when the clock blinks at him and Tony remembers she actually has a sleep schedule, unlike him. 

Tony spins around and heads back up the stairs, ignoring the sleek elevator he’d built especially so he didn’t have to walk up the stairs. The stairs are like the rest of the house, quiet and solid, but they ring as Tony races up them. Five minutes later he’s regretting not using the elevator, ribs burning, but he makes it up to the top and pushes open the door to the roof. Immediately, the noise of the city washes over him and Tony lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

The railing is cold when he leans on it, sliding down to sit on the edge of the roof and stick his legs through the railing. He wonders vaguely what’d it be like to fall without the suit protecting him. Tony glances down and calculates an average of thirteen seconds before he would hit concrete. Too much time to rethink. 

~•~•~•~

A couple weeks later, Tony gets a package addressed to a Mr. Tony Stank, and while Tony appreciates the Mr., it hurts to hear Steve's humor again. An old phone slips out of the package, and Tony simultaneously hates it and is ridiculously grateful for it. The letter is Steve trying to be sincere while angry, and Tony doesn't blame him for that. 

He wishes there was a way to let Steve know this, that he's sorry, doesn't blame him. The plastic phone sits on his desk, but Tony silently swears never to use it. It's better if Steve doesn't have anything to do with him. 

The letter and the phone are placed in a locked drawer, and Tony tries not to think about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! (Feel free to leave kudos or comments, as they fuel my soul)


End file.
